


Loki on Earth Part I: Searching

by MarvelFic1984



Series: Loki on Earth [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-07-27 04:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16211174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelFic1984/pseuds/MarvelFic1984
Summary: After receiving his pardon from the international tribunal, thanks to his ostensible assistance defeating Thanos, Loki was free to wander the Earth as a refugee and a ward of SHIELD.  With little else to do, he took a lover and began to research his past.  In his wanderings he found his mother Frigga's hidden spellbook which held the key to how she transformed him from a sickly runt into a god.  Boredom forces him to confront his longing for acceptance, a confrontation which is intolerable.  So he creates his own excitement.





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m getting a little bored.”

Never words you want your new boyfriend to whisper to you in the middle of your third book signing of the day. The author looked down a long line of fans waiting for her signature and handshake at their third Barnes & Noble engagement of the day in this  
city, this time at the usually quiet shop in Evanston, near the lake and the university. 

Not that she blamed him. She had warned him that it would not be very interesting and had even suggested he skip the third signing to spend time with his brother who was also presently visiting Chicago. He had declined, preferring to come along. She had quickly learned that he could be a little clingy, although he would never have admitted it.

She looked over at him. Not his usual look, with somewhat unkempt red hair and glasses, but they had thought it was best he disguise himself given the media rumors. His boredom had already jeopardized her radio segment the day before.

“There are rumors that you have recently gotten into a relationship with someone notorious,” the DJ had asked her in the middle of what was already only a five minute segment on her critically acclaimed but popularly lukewarm political novel. She looked at the hopeful and audacious man sitting across from her in the booth.

“I’m not sure what that has to do with my book which came out eight months ago.”

“You’re not denying it then?”

“I’m not discussing it one way or the other. You’re interrupting an interview with a feminist author to ask her about a man. I’d advise against it.”

“Who said anything about a man?” He said slyly. “The rumors I heard were about a god.”

She glanced out the large glass window of the recording booth into the small waiting room adjacent to the recording booth and caught a glimpse of her lover peeping through the window of the wooden door leading to that room, a peep she assumed the DJ had not yet seen. There were 45 seconds left in her segment.

“You have less than a minute to tell the people where to find me if they want their books signed.” She said with more brusqueness than she intended. Her publicist was not going to be thrilled by her continued refusal to suffer fools. Unlike the publicist, she was satisfied that the book had sold enough to pay her rent for a while. Win a couple literary prizes and they get greedy. Apparently publicists sometimes forget that most people lack the good sense to know quality art when they see it. The book had sold just fine to people who would understand it.

She remembered thoughts like this were why she wasn’t very popular.

As the DJ had finished reading off the time and location details of her three signings, her lover had walked into the waiting room, partially disguised but largely recognizable in dressy street clothes. She thanked the DJ for the segment as he prepared to cut to commercial and went into the waiting room to depart.

“All this effort to sell a few hundred more books.” She remarked. “At least it gets them off my back about when they’ll get the next one. Let’s get out of here.” The first few words were delivered with snide attitude, but the last five were more flirtatious as she was hit with the realization she was off work until the next day.

He gladly obliged, and walked her out with a warning look at the DJ who was still in the booth. That DJ apparently announced their relationship as they left the waiting room, putting off the commercial break for a few more seconds.

Now they were at the third signing and, to be fair, they were far better attended than she had anticipated by people who apparently hoped to confirm the gossip. For the first few he had really enjoyed the attention and confusion. Wow, you really look like him in some ways. I know, I get that a lot. 

He sat next to her now, looking a little bored and realizing that they would not get to leave for some time. For slightly more than zero moments, she hoped his boredom would not come with any consequences. She had no good reason to so hope.

The store’s double doors burst open with a gust of that Chicago wind that knows no season.

“I’ve heard rumors that I have taken a human lover. So I had to come see for myself, who is this woman that people think could possibly win my heart.”

In full Asgardian leather, ankle length cloak, and opting for the horns, she saw an image of Loki waltzing towards her signing table, a shit-eating grin on his face. What a brat. She suppressed a smile, which was easy to do since she felt a mix of relief at the diversion and annoyance that this diva was interrupting her work. 

“My, she is lovely isn’t she. I can see why you might think she’d capture my fancy. But…”

His dramatic pause was unnecessarily long.

“Who is this fine gentleman sitting beside her?”

There were not enough eyerolls in existence to capture how she felt in this moment.

“Handsome sir, I’m struck. Come away with me.” He extended out his hand to a near mirror image of himself, his other hand on his heart indicating where he had been struck, to aid anyone not paying enough attention. Which was no one. All eyes in the room were on the spectacle. None of the fans saw the author groan, exasperated. The red-haired gentleman reached out, an awe-struck look on his face, as he rose to join the image of the god. 

Together, Loki and his disguise joined hands and then vanished in a puff of light and smoke that first delighted and then bewildered the gathered crowd. There were no applause, however, as the confused fans who had only barely had the chance to take out their phones turned their attention back to the now alone author.

“Next?”

The person next in line stepped forward.

“Didn’t Loki just run away with your boyfriend?”

“Win some lose some. Who do I make it out to?” The confused customer obliged and handed her his book for her seemingly disinterested signature, and made whatever remark he had planned for the encounter. She did not really hear it.

She only made it past a couple more perplexed readers when she stopped and said loudly to no one in particular “Feel better?”

The fan in front of her looked around confusedly, fairly sure she wasn’t talking to him. A voice only she could hear said in her ear “You have to admit that was a bit of fun.”

“Folks,” she said louder, “I think we’re about wrapping up here. Please tell the clerk that you were waiting and she will get your information to my publicist so I can send you a personalized message. Sorry, sorry.” She added, responding to the collective that rose just before she vanished into thin air. The groans turned to gasps, which turned to chatter that reached the level of a clamour.

Her publicist would have been upset about the inconvenience and expense of moving up the train reservation from Chicago back to New York by half a day, if it weren’t for the fact that sales of her book had exploded since the radio segment the day before. What had been a decently circulated work of feminist political fiction that was popular among scholars and policy wonks had become an overnight bestseller on the rumors that its author had taken up with the Norse god. 

His notoriety since returning to Earth as a refugee of Asgard met or even rivaled that which he had enjoyed centuries before. People were captivated by his drama, good looks, and above all else, total unpredictability. His reluctantly granted pardon from the international tribunal following his questionable assistance in defeating Thanos did little to persuade anyone that he was now to be trusted on Earth. But it didn’t seem like he was going anywhere. Killing him was the only thing less effective than jailing him, apparently, so the leaders of the world decided to strike a deal. For the moment, he was free to roam. On his best behavior.

Fortunately, the few occupants on the first class Amtrak dining car from Chicago to New York prided themselves on their ability to exercise polite disinterest among the rich and famous.

She couldn’t help but smile that he was still laughing at his own antics.

“I’m glad you had a good time, but I still feel like you don’t understand why I thought we should keep quieter.”

He pouted. “You’re ashamed to be seen with me?”

“Of course not. It’s got nothing to do with that. You’ve been back on Earth long enough to know these people are vultures.” She sighed.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“That’s not what I meant. You realize the only story that’s more popular than a new relationship is a dramatic break-up. They will try to force a wedge between us before we’ve had the chance to build up any trust. Anything they can. They’ll say I’m secretly a SHIELD agent. They’ll say you’re using me for some horrible agenda. They’ll take a photo of me greeting Thor at a party and try to convince you I’m sleeping with your brother. They’ll do anything. They don’t just want to write about what we do, they’ll try to shape it.”

“And you think we’re that fragile?”

“After barely a week? Of course I do. I’m not interested in seeing this get tested before it has a chance because, despite my better judgment, I’m really enjoying myself and want to keep this going.”

He looked down and thought awhile.

“So, you’re saying we shouldn’t go around flaunting ourselves in the public eye, because you want to keep me?” Puppy dog eyes were probably something he could do on command whether or not the feeling behind them was sincere, but knowing that did not render them any less effective on her.

How could someone this good looking and powerful be so insecure? Not that she didn’t know the whole story about how he was abandoned at birth and then raised without knowing he was a mongrel stepchild, an entirely different species, from his adoptive family. Some wounds are very slow to heal, she thought to herself.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” She took his hands in hers. “Can’t we just enjoy this for a bit without worrying about them?” She gestured out the window to indicate the teeming masses of humanity. She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with someone above the age of 20, let alone 1500.

He hesitated. “I’m afraid the cat’s a bit out of the bag on this one, unless you have any ideas.”

“You don’t have any escape plan that doesn’t involve killing people?” She asked, not joking.

He thought for a moment and then reached dramatically into his pocket. He had to be dramatic to reach into his pocket because his pocket was not attached to any item of clothing. Instead, it was a small pocket universe he accessed at about shoulder level that he used instead of a suitcase. She was aware it had once held the Tesseract. And she preferred not to ask what it held now.

“They gave me this.”

He held out a small communicator with the SHIELD emblem. Since his clemency and his acceptance as a refugee on Earth, SHIELD had taken him as a ward. Thor had convinced them that providing him a small income that would permit him to travel and offering him hospitality would be both cheaper and safer than attempting to put him on probation restrictions, which he would have seen as both a personal insult and a fun challenge.

He pressed his thumb to the device and it lit up. Shortly thereafter, the image of his brother’s face appeared on the tiny screen.

“Brother! I didn’t realize you still had this, you never call. Are you still in Chicago?”

“No, I’m on the train. Listen, I’ve perhaps run into a slight situation.”

“I heard.”

“You heard?”

“It’s all over the place. Some people think you kidnapped her, some think she’s your girlfriend, and conspiracy theorists think you made her up and she’s just an illusion.”

“I didn’t make her up. She’s written a book, you could read it.”

“I know you didn’t. When I met her, she made jokes at your expense. None of you illusions have ever done that, no matter how much you wanted me to believe they were real.”

“Well, I need to find out if there’s a place we can lay low for a time.”

“You don’t have a backup plan?”

“I have several but she just vetoed them all.” She glared at him with disapproval. “Any thoughts on where I’m presently welcome?”

“Yeah I think Nick had a suggestion, I’ll talk to him.” With that, the call ended abruptly.

She sighed, struggling to remember why this relationship, if that was an appropriate term, was something she had decided she was determined to continue. Until he reached across the table and put his hand on her shoulder with his fingers touching the base of her neck, sending the pleasing tingling sensation down her spine that occurs whenever a human is touched by a god.  
“Shall we retire to the sleeper car, to await his answer?”

It was 3:00 in the afternoon.


	2. Loki's New Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in his life Loki owns his own home. But leisure leaves room to confront truths he would rather not face.

Their tickets would have taken them as far as New York but they got off before Philadelphia as per the instructions that came over the communicator. At a comparatively remote station in the middle of Pennsylvania, not a usual stop for this train, they boarded the black SHIELD card that was waiting for them. The car took them to the middle of a rural farm covered in corn and wheat fields, exactly the kind of place where one might expect an alien landing. Appropriately enough, Tony Stark and Thor were waiting for them on a hill.

“Good to see you again,” Tony remarked to the lady. They had met at the East/West Avengers party in downtown Chicago a few nights earlier, but that’s a story for another time.

“Okay, Loki, there’s two of you and two choices of how to travel. Suit or hammer?” His brother’s smile beamed.

“Suit please.” Loki said tersely.

“Great, if the lady will come with me. I’ll need you right here under my arm, hold on tight.” Thor extended his bare arm to Loki’s girlfriend who stepped forward to accept without concealing any of her enthusiasm.

“Wait.” Loki put up his hand and sighed. He had traveled this way previously and did not like the bugs or wind, but if the alternative was allowing Thor to carry off his girlfriend he saw little choice. He climbed on Thor’s back and noted that it was humiliating as his brother laughed and swung his hammer in the air. He glared back at the ground assuming there would be a solid layer of metal between his girlfriend and notorious former playboy Tony Stark. 

Tony watched them take off and said “I guess I won’t need the third suit. Probably best I don’t give him this anyway.” He held up two little silver balls. She looked up and giggled as he threw one at her. It wasn’t a full suit of armor but it did put little jets on her hands and feet and a helmet on her head. As she was hoisted slightly off the ground she grew nervous but excited. “Tony I have no idea how to work this thing.”

“That’s okay. It’s pre-programmed to follow me where we’re going.” He tossed a smaller ball at her suitcase.

“And that is?”

He looked over at her as the helmet formed over his head. “Norway.”  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Good morning sunshine.”

She looked around her and rubbed her eyes. Loki had been busy. When they had arrived in Norway the night before, the prime minister had been a little too enthusiastic in greeting them. Ever since their gods had shown up back on Earth, even if at first in conflict, he had become far more pious to the old ways. Over the last decade, first a cabinet minister and then as prime minister, he had set about constructing homes for them in the countryside, in the hopes that they would come take up residence there.

The plan may have been more effective if he had told anyone.

Thor had not been planning on staying but he was told that his house had a keg, and was never one to decline hospitality at any rate.

Loki had realized as they approached his new home, about a mile and a half away, that although he had grown up in a palace and spent centuries traveling from planet to planet accruing (and losing) riches and influence, he had never actually held legitimate title to a piece of land. He taxed his memory, reviewing his mental log of wins and losses. Never. He had spent his entire existence securing accommodations through a mix of ingratiation, seduction, and trickery.

But upon his arrival in Norway, as a surprise, the Norwegian government conferred upon him clear title to a two acre property along the coast, just north of his brother’s new home. He’d maintained enough composure to carry his girlfriend over the threshold, a human tradition he only partially understood the implications of, or so he led her to believe. He did not outwardly express his emotions to her or the prime minister and they parted with appropriately polite gratitude.

But his feelings about becoming a homeowner were easily read from his actions. He had clearly been making use of his time. Gods don’t sleep much, as she had learned the fun and tiring way. She surmised that he had stayed up all night. He had, in the past, largely only had the opportunity to apply his aesthetics to a fairly limited wardrobe of clothing his Asgardian magic allowed him to create from thin air. As it turns out that ability to conjure fabric extended to the trappings of his abode. 

Last night’s foray into interior decorating yielded mixed results. He had made it through three rooms. The parlor was decorated in the glamorous golden gilding of Odin’s palace with elaborate murals, white columns with gold leafing running up them like creeping ivy, and luxurious chaises. The rear family room, previously a cozy IKEA style TV room with sofas, was adorned almost entirely in black velvet with dark leather furniture and a ring of candles. She suspected in this room he may be nearly invisible but that was potentially its purpose. The kitchen he had decorated in a rustic Midgardian farm style. If the kitchen had been a restaurant, it would have served avocado toast and pumpkin spiced lattes that were $2.95 too expensive.

The jarring discordance among the three rooms was what suited him the best.

When he had greeted her he was fully dressed and apparently making breakfast. She had come out wearing only her long tank top.

“Darling, shouldn’t you be dressed for breakfast?”

She smiled flirtatiously. “Why, it’s just the two of us. Isn’t it more fun if…”

She was interrupted by a deafening rap at the door. As she took off sprinting towards the bedroom to find her suitcase, she heard a thundering voice, pun intended, shout “What’s for breakfast?” Only then did she realize she had seen three place settings on the high top kitchen island.

A short time later she returned in her plaid pajama pants with a plain hooded sweatshirt on over her tank top. She noticed a slightly disapproving look from her partner for the casual nature of her meal attire but disregarded it. She was running out of clothes in her suitcase, and had not been expecting to spend her morning entertaining a guest, so she underdressed intentionally out of spite. Revenge pajamas are the most comfortable.

“I didn’t realize you were coming, when did you two plan this?” She asked as she helped herself to coffee.

They looked at her with a small amount of confusion. “Plan what?” Thor asked.

She looked between them. “Breakfast, when did you invite him to come over?”

Loki chuckled. “I didn’t.” She looked inquisitively, wondering how he knew that not only would his brother be coming over to eat breakfast, but what time. He had been on the verge of plating food just as the knock at the door came. As if sensing her question he asked her. “Have you ever known anyone for fifteen hundred years?”

She confessed she was not sure she had even known anyone for fifteen years, now that her parents were gone.

“Then how come,” Thor asked, mid-chew, “I never know what you’re going to do. I’ve known you just as long.”

“Because I make a point of always paying careful attention, which you don’t. I also make a point of never being predictable, which you are.” He smiled as he slid an omelette onto his girlfriend’s plate that was identical to one she had ordered the last time they were out together. When Loki said he paid careful attention, he was not exaggerating. 

“Why does a prince know how to cook?” she asked him, taking in the aromas.

“Centuries of wandering lend themselves to picking up certain skills. This will surprise you but I tend to wear out my welcome. Fortunately, I have found there are universal ways to extend it. Surprising your host with a meal is among the easiest and most pleasant.”

“Sounds easier than vacuuming floors.”

“Or cleaning toilets. There’s only so low I can go.”

She had bad news for him about becoming a homeowner. Although as she sipped her coffee, she realized she was the only non-royal in the house. Dammit. 

It was clear during breakfast that Loki was enjoying for once playing host, having spent actual centuries as a guest, stowaway, or ward. 

“So it’s true then, you’re adopted from an ice planet?”

“Of course it’s true, why wouldn’t it be true?”

“Well,” she responded, “I take any legend I hear about you with a healthy dose of skepticism.”

Thor laughed. “She’s got a point Loki. Remember the time you told the humans you gave birth to a horse?”

“I was young, it was funny.”

“That one is still floating around you know, people aren’t inclined to forget a claim like that.” She gestured with her fork and smiled.

“Then it’s still funny.” He smiled smugly at the idea that humans had incorporated his most juvenile pranks into their permanent mythos.

“So if that’s true, you’re not Odin’s biological son, how did you become a god? Unless Jotuns are gods too?”

The two gods stopped their meal to look at her with a small amount of incredulity. After a moment’s awkward silence, Thor said “That’s a very impertinent question for a human to ask.”

“It is,” Loki stopped him, “but a fair one. I’ll admit I spent a good deal of my time when I was imprisoned on Asgard pondering the same. It was the only contemplative time that has passed since I learned my true heritage. And alas, I was forbidden to discuss the subject with Frigga or Odin.”

“That’s what you were doing in there?” Thor asked.

“Partially. Mostly I was waiting for one of you to develop the good sense to ask me about Thanos. I had my big speech all planned out.”

Thor stood up from his chair. “Wait, why didn’t you tell someone? We were forbidden to come down but you could have told your guards. You realize that could have been very useful information.”

“I was sulking. I was waiting for you to ask.”

“Well over a year?!”

“I’m patient.”

“You aren’t.”

“I’m patient when I’m sulking.”

Thor sighed. That one was true. He rubbed his forehead, thinking about all the damage Thanos had done. 

“I’m sorry we never came and asked about your torture. I should have realized something was wrong when I saw you on Earth. You have come up with some stupid plans but crashing through with an alien army isn’t your style.”

“Like I said, you don’t pay attention.”

Thor looked at him again. “That’s all you have to say?”

Loki sighed. “Apology accepted.”

Thor took a step forward. “And?”

“And I’m sorry I sulked instead of telling you Thanos was planning on wiping out half the universe.”

Thor rolled his eyes. “I require exercise. Loki my house didn’t have any training equipment.”

“Nor mine. But there is a nice piece of land, we could just spar.”

“Please. I’ve sparred at the Avengers compound with Steve Rogers but his heart hasn’t been in it, and I have to be careful not to hurt him. And Bruce won’t Hulk just to give me a good fight.”

Before her eyes, their morning meal attire transformed into sleeveless leather armor, Thor’s in red and Loki’s in black. Some day, she thought, maybe she would convince Loki that he would look good in other colors. Loki turned to her. “Our apologies for subjecting you to our bickering. You’re welcome to come watch our combat exercises, they are seldom seen by humans.”

“I may for a bit, but I should do my own exercises and catch up on my correspondence. I can’t duck my publisher forever.” Loki acknowledged her response with a slight bow of his head and turned to follow his brother out the back door.

To her alarm, shortly after Loki exited the door, he was seized by his brother and hurled twenty feet through the air. He landed, so far as she could see, on his head. She ran to the window to watch and realized he had seamlessly rolled onto his feet. He kept his back turned as Thor chased after him.

When Thor reached him, he crouched down, grabbed Thor around the ankle, launched him forward a similar distance, and then ran after him. Thor did a full 360 degree flip mid-air, landed squarely on his feet, and turned around.

She realized with a mix of amusement and horror that this was the game. For the next five minutes she looked on astonished as the two of them hurled each other across the parcel between their new houses and practiced landing in defensive combat poses like six foot tall death cheerleaders. Some warm-up exercise.

Once it became clear that this would continue for some time, she contemplated her own agenda. It was not that she had not gotten ample exercise over the last, had it only been a week or so? And seeing him employ his full strength now made her realize how exceedingly gentle Loki had been when they were intimate. But still, nothing could substitute for a good long run and she was overdue. She found that there had been a washing machine installed in the basement, one she realized only she would use with a boyfriend who could conjure clothes. She washed everything except the one thing that was still clean: her unused athletic gear.

She was not terribly fast. Just under six miles in an hour was a very good day for her, particularly when she was neither well rested nor keeping up with her conditioning. Up and down the beautiful and untamed coastline of Norway. She ran out far enough to leave herself a solid mile for her walking cool-down, a chance to just appreciate the scenery. What an adventure she had found herself on. And all because she decided to take a chance on a cute guy, apparently in disguise, that she met at a poorly attended book signing in Long Island. Life was strange.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pleasantly worn out after a good morning’s exercise, Loki left Thor in the yard to enjoy heaving some boulders he had found by the ocean. Athleticism was one area where he seldom begrudged his brother’s superiority. Loki had long acknowledged that as much as he enjoyed exercise, and as important as his strength and stamina were to his survival, he much preferred academic pursuits, political intrigue, and illusion spells to chucking rocks.

He was reminded that old habits died hard. Every morning after yard exercises at the palace, Thor would transition into combat training with the other children, who grew up to be his warriors, while Loki would slip away to study sorcery with Frigga. He could not recall how they had settled on this as their schedule, but no one had ever questioned that arrangement and it suited all the participants. Now a grown man, he looked forward to sneaking off to pursue a different sort of post-training companion.

He found her fast asleep, freshly dried clothes folded in her luggage, laying next to her laptop in their bed. It was apparent from the half drunk coffee on the nightstand and partially composed email on her screen that sleep had not been her immediate plan, but he had known humans to succumb after a week in his company. He detected with pleasure the state of her shoes, indicating she had completed her own exercises first. As set about unpacking her bag and placing her items in the empty dresser, he thought to himself that he may have found a human he wouldn’t wear out too quickly this time. One who might keep up.

Which returned him to the earlier question. Why, during the few moments he had gotten to speak to Odin and Frigga since he learned they were not his blood parents, had he spent his time indulging in insults at their expense instead of asking them.

If I’m not really yours, then why am I a god?

He briefly pondered and dismissed the possibility that he was not. He had wielded the infinity gauntlet. All too briefly, he silently cursed. He could form vivid illusions and falsify or conjure memories. In well over a thousand years, he had barely aged. He could survive the vacuum of space, the tortures of Titans, and the blows of heroes. As tough as they were, he had seen ice giants mowed down by the dozens at the hands of Thor’s warriors. He had personally slain Laufey with a single strike.

Even if he were born small, there was no way the Jotuns would have discarded him if they had sensed he was the strongest among them.

No. He sighed at the inescapable conclusion yet again that he had reached hundreds of times sitting in his cell. 

There was some other magic at work. And he may never find out what.

He glanced down at the half composed email. Apparently she was considering declining an invitation to speak about her novel at the University of Oslo the following week. He thought to himself, perhaps he would prefer if she might accept. 

He had some research to do. About his favorite subject. Where better to read up about himself than the oldest libraries in Norway? A topic to discuss when she awoke.


	3. Frigga's Diary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frigga left her son behind clues to access the magic that forges a god.

Her doubts around his claim that he had only urged her to accept the invitation in order to support her writing career only grew as she took note of the eagerness with which he accompanied her on the journey to Oslo. Great pains had been taken to time their arrival so as to avoid unwanted attention. For the first time in the two or so weeks since they had made each other’s acquaintance, they were apart for more than an hour. She had been taken to a classroom near where her lecture was scheduled and was finally devoting time to an almost incomprehensible backlog of emails.

He had made a request to be taken to the oldest reference books available. Knowing that humans tended to balk if you request vanity reading about yourself, he instead expressed a wish to honor his departed mother by accessing any ancient materials mentioning her. He offered his services to translate to the extent there were any such writings still the subject of scholarly disagreement.

He was, to his immediate disappointment, transported instead to the prime minister’s residence. He pondered that seldom had the pleasure of such an eager host proved this vexing. He was in a mood to indulge his own curiosity, not entertain mortals. Even mortal worshippers.

“You know when I took this post, after Ragnarok, a day I never thought I would live to see, I did not dream that it would be me you chose to fulfill the prophecy.”

“The prophecy?” Loki asked incredulously, now completely forgetting his earlier disappointment.

“I’m sorry maybe I was presumptuous, is that not what you’ve come for?” the prime minister said confusedly.

Loki took a moment to regain his composure. “Of course, I just didn’t realize humanity was aware of it.” He paused a moment before he added, “how much were you told?”

The prime minister nodded vigorously as he led Loki away from the guards and into a hidden chamber below his residence. “The only prophecy we have that’s post Ragnarok. Frigga's visits to Earth were seldom, but once, over a thousand years ago at the beginning of the greatest and longest kingdom in Europe, she left instructions with the royal family of the Fairhair dynasty.” He walked faster as he continued to explain. 

“At some point, the knowledge of her instructions passed from the dynastic rulers to the civil government, some suspect it is because the outgoing dynasties did not trust their successors with the sacred knowledge. But so far as we know it has always remained consistent. One day, you would come to Norway looking for what magic makes a god. She said you would ask for her oldest writings and so you have.”

He hid his flood of emotion. His mother had known all along that he would find out about his birth one day and had made arrangements. Between his ability to maintain his outward calm and the illusion he projected over it, the prime minister was none the wiser.

“So, I was right. She’s the one then.” Urged on by the total lack of response from his deity. “You’re seeking the magic for her ascension. You’ve chosen a companion.”

Loki was still choosing his next words as the prime minister continued. “I have to say I like her. She may be an American, but I had read her book before she was connected to you. She has a Scandinavian heart and is welcome here. If I may be so bold.” He added, entirely unable to read the countenance staring down at him, chiefly because it was an illusion.

The magic that makes a god.

In the past, when he had lost his companions due to their fatigue from his attentions, or their deaths whether untimely or of old age, Loki had gone into a tailspin of mischief in response. He did not cope well with loss. And he was enjoying his new human. He had not considered the possibility that there may be a way to keep her.

First things first. The prime minister had opened a walk-in temperature controlled vault that contained only a single small book, bound in leather and closed with a simple strap. Loki delicately picked up the book and saw his mother’s handwriting in Asgardian script.

“So no one has translated this.” He asked his host.

“No one has opened it. She told us it was cursed, only you could undo the snap.”

He chuckled at the unintended double meaning in the sentence. Undoing snaps had become his speciality. But the gauntlet had been subsequently confiscated. This book was his.

He did not immediately turn around. “You’re to speak of this to no one.”

“I’m the only person alive who knew what was held by the vault. I will take the secret to my grave.”

Loki considered for a moment that it would probably not be in his best interests to hasten that process. He had only just obtained good title to a piece of land and he no longer had the bifrost to escape Earth for a few decades or centuries in the event his crimes were detected. An ally with state power and a willingness to give him a house and a book was too valuable to sacrifice just to protect a secret. Plus the man may possess more useful knowledge. He raised the book above shoulder height and it vanished into his pocket.

“Good,” he said to the eagerly waiting man as he spun around with a flourish of his cape. “I would like to go to the library, my beloved will be looking for me there. He placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “You’ve done well” he added with a pat on the cheek, treating the human to the spark of his touch. Humans were so easy to reward. Like pets.

People always did like the idea of keeping their favorite pets forever.  
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But first, to sate his curiosity.

He waited until she had gone to sleep. She noticed that he had been particularly affectionate that afternoon, perhaps a bit more clingy than normal, which meant that she got very little accomplished. Still, given that she had provided a relatively unplanned lecture that was shockingly well attended, at a major European university, she couldn’t help but feel like she had earned the afternoon’s enjoyment. 

Once he sensed that his lover was fully asleep he went into the drawing room he had decorated in black. It was unlike any room he could recall having been in. Completely original, a little mysterious, and exceedingly gloomy. Perfection.

He took a deep breath and opened the tome.

I had waited so long for more children. Gods conceive so rarely, or there would be too many of us, and we had just lost Hela. Odin brought me the most beautiful little child. He said the baby was a frost giant runt, left exposed to the elements to die naturally. He appeared about the age of our Thor, only a few days old and although he had survived his ordeal he didn’t appear long for this life. 

But nursing appeared to quickly restore him to vigor and he began to thrive alongside his new brother. I was overjoyed. We had a house full. I even forgave Odin for missing the birth of his second child to fight a war.

Odin was afraid of announcing the adoption since there was still so much hostility to Jotunheim, so instead announced that I had birthed twins. He altered the baby’s appearance to make him resemble his big sister Hela which only increased my fondness and determination not to lose another.

But. Once it came time to wean my sons. Thor continued to grow stronger on our rich Asgardian diet. But my Loki began to grow weak again. At first I had thought we only needed to find the right balance of foods and give him rest. So, when the other children went to play in the training yard, I kept Loki back with me. He hardly objected. He sat with me every day and I read to him. He always loved a good story. He started getting to my study before me and I would find him there, seated in his spot beneath my chair waiting for the day’s entertainment. He was so small then, barely to my knee.

I confess this may have been the happiest time in my life. The look on his face every morning as I chose the day’s reading. I was so enjoying it that I failed to notice he was not getting stronger. In my defense, he always has been stoic and never lets anyone see his weakness.

But one day I came in for our morning reading and I found him laying down instead of sitting, on the cold marble floor of my study. He hadn’t heard me come in. When I got closer he lifted his head and greeted me with that little smile. “What are we reading today mother?” He asked, as if nothing was wrong. But I realized he had been concealing how tired he had become.

I became more determined than ever. I would not lose my baby.

I built more time into our day for him to rest and me to work. I realized that it had not just been the nutrition in my milk that had restored him to health during his nursing years but the magic of Valhalla as well. If only it had been permanent. So I set about distilling my own essence using vials of my blood. Every morning I put Loki down for his nap and then went to my lab where I obtained a fresh vial and began my studies. The weaker he grew, the greater my urgency.

I was successful in isolating that essence in myself, my inextricable connection to the Valhalla plane forged at my conception. That might and hardy constitution which Thor had been conferred at birth I dared hope I could give to Loki through an elixir. Following my success, as outlined in this book, I learned that only the tiniest drop was required as the magic of Valhalla is potent. 

And it worked quickly.

I administered the first dose in a small bowl of porridge, one of the few things he was still eating in his state of weakness, and noticed a change that very day. Loki arose early from his nap and returned to his spot for stories. I only shared with him a small portion of my overwhelming joy, not wanting him to realize just how close he had come.

Over the course of the next week I watched as he grew stronger daily. Then one morning he asked me if he could go play with the other children in the yard. Never have I been so simultaneously joyous and heartbroken as that morning when I realized that making him stronger may allow me to keep him forever, but lose our contemplative time together as he realized his destiny among his more athletic peers. Of course I couldn’t deny him what he had long missed out on.

But he returned to me. After a few hours of play he left the other children and wandered into the palace to find me for our stories. I hid my tears at the realization that he did not simply tolerate our book mornings for lack of anything else to do. He loved them as I did.

We established our new routine. He joined the group in the yard for the warm-up exercises but departed as they changed to the heavier combat drills, instead choosing to join me in my study. As the elixir continued to do its work, his magical abilities emerged. We were unsurprised that Thor’s domain was lightning since he was conceived following the great intergalactic Jovian storm. But I had no concept of what Loki’s abilities would be, he was, as he always has been, a mystery. 

He revealed over time that his god domain was to be perception and its manipulation. As with most godly powers, the discovery was accidental. One morning as I was waiting for him to join me in my study I heard a loud crash from the banquet hall and went running. When I arrived, nothing seemed amiss. Loki was standing in the middle of the hall looking innocent. When I asked what had happened he denied any knowledge.

But as we walked out, I turned around and saw a shattered taureen on the floor by the table. It was there, unconcealed and plain as day. It should have been the first thing I saw upon entering the hall. I confronted Loki. Not about breaking the taureen, we had dozens and there are any number of ways a boy might break ceramic. I asked him why didn’t I see the damage when I came in?

I will never forget his response.

“I didn’t want you to.”

Once I realized that Loki’s natural talents lay in the domain of perception, an area in which I confess I had some abilities, the nature and quality of our reading lessons evolved. Story hour became sorcery class. And he thrived, like a blossoming sunflower turning to face the sun. The exercise of his powers strengthened the bond forged between him and the divine energy of Valhalla.

But it was not yet permanent. I feared what may be required to make the magic last a lifetime, but for now my task was straightforward and enjoyable. To become a god, it became apparent to me that he had to perform godworthy deeds with his magic. And fortunately, he was keen to do that all on his own. 

Some things never change. Anyone who had entered the room at the moment Loki read the last line of his mother’s introduction to her spellbook would have seen exactly what he wanted them to see. Him, reading a nineteenth century collection of short stories about his pranks and laughing at his own jokes. They would have seen neither his book nor his tears as he recalled that the last thing he had ever said to Frigga was that she was not truly his mother.  
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Once he regained his composure he slipped back into the bed, his bed that he owned, where his new found love laid. He thought of what he had liked about her as he stroked her hair while she slept. Unlike his previous Earth lovers, this one was not a blind worshipper of his brilliance, an acolyte upon whom he had conferred the gift of his touch. No, this one had a smart mouth and a sharp wit. She had proven a keen observer of the human condition, such observations she shared with him as impertinent whispers for his amusement. She was growing to love him despite her occasional impatience with his nonsense and horror at his past, and she had an independent streak that was simultaneously vexing and admirable.

He thought to himself that Frigga would have liked her.

The same magic his mother had used to forge herself a son. Could he use it to create himself a wife?

Only one way to find out. And as a bonus, it would involve stabbing Thor. Repeatedly.


	4. Schemes and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki begins to implement his ideas in secret.

“Hey!” Thor gave the hand signal to pause practice combat as his brother extracted a small knife from a muscular left arm.

“What was that?! For practice we always use wooden weapons, you know that.”

Loki looked at him and blinked, unmoved. “I don’t have a wooden dagger.”

“That is no reason to use a real one. Ouch!” Thor held his arm which, to be fair to his brother, had already begun to heal. Loki assumed his fighting stance again as though the game continued but Thor waived him off. “No, I’m done for the morning until you’re ready to play fair.”

Loki looked disappointed and held the small knife down at his side. “You’ll be fine. Aren’t you growing a bit bored with no real fighting to do?” 

“No. I have fought quite enough over the last century. I am resting.”

“You’re the one who insists on three hours of combat exercises daily.”

“Resting is no excuse for laziness brother, you know that.”

Loki looked at him with amusement. Thor had obviously never seen real laziness. Perhaps if he had spent more time in Sakaar, outside the gladiatorial pits. Or anywhere in the known universe enjoying the local flavor instead of seeking out heroic deeds that required a big hammer. 

He feigned further disappointment as Thor turned and walked back towards his house, holding his injured arm. He will be fine, Loki thought to himself. He’s had worse. From me.

His beloved was enjoying her post-run nap in the bedroom. The predictability of others routines had always been among of his most cherished pieces of information. He descended the stairs to the basement and walked straight through what appeared to be a wall into a small anteroom. He did not think she had spent enough time yet in this basement that she would notice it had gotten the tiniest bit smaller. In that room was a small table. He drew from his pocket the knife, some vials he had obtained from the kind of establishment that doesn’t ask questions, his favorite kind, and his mother’s book.

He released the small latch on the inside of the handle of his newly modified knife as Thor’s blood dripped out from a straw-like compartment that ran up the blade into one of his vials. He held it up to the light and rolled it around for a moment as he looked at his mother’s spellbook for the elixir instructions. Now to distill the essence of Valhalla from his brother’s stolen blood. This was shaping up to be a more interesting than average Tuesday. 

He exercised great care in isolating his specimen. As creative as he could be in thinking of different ways to make his big brother bleed, he could only do it so often before arousing suspicion. And in any event, practicing magic this powerful was bound to attract attention, even on a quaint little planet boasting few wizards.

Because those wizards already viewed him with suspicion.

Warranted suspicion. The worst kind.

But since when was Loki a stranger to hard-earned mistrust? Quite the opposite, it may well have been his best friend.

He had read the instructions several times over. Distill the essence of Valhalla. A handy guide, from mother. And to think a book with this kind of power had been sitting in a box in Norway all these centuries.  
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Two weeks later, she returned from her morning run to find Loki standing in the kitchen with a full place set on the high top. Not just a plate and silverware with a napkin, but a draped tablecloth, multiple glasses, and even a flowering centerpiece. She raised an eyebrow.

“To what do I owe all this?”

“Ah, well. I have been thinking for some time about, um.”

She looked at him expectantly.

“Trying to host.”

She pondered this a moment. “Host?”

“Well, yes. I’ve realized now that I’m a homeowner that it may be expected of me.”

She looked at him inquisitively. “Haven’t you hosted before? Didn’t you grow up in a palace?”

“I was never the host exactly. As prince I would receive guests and entertain, but in some ways I was as much the guest. I never assisted in the preparations, that sort of thing, other than practicing for any politicicking that required my...particular talents.”

“But you’ve learned to cook and set a place.”

“This is the first place I’ve ever set actually, how is it?”

“It’s glamorous honeybear, very elegant. I would never have known.”

“I learned to cook to ingratiate myself as a guest, not to entertain. I have honestly been sitting here all morning trying to sort the first thing as to how I would go about it.”

She eyed the magnificent spread before her suspiciously. There was nothing about the set-up that in any way resembled a first attempt. The napkin was folded into the shape of a rose which should not have been physically possible.

“You don’t believe me?” he said, noting her hesitation.

“I’m not accustomed to having a life experience you lack. And this is magnificent.”

“Presentation I can do. Actually I am more concerned about other components of hosting an affair. Whom do I invite? Do humans send invitations or call or ask in person nowadays? Do they come by car?”

“Is there enough toilet paper and soap in the bathroom?”

“You see, I haven’t the faintest idea these things.” He smiled and pulled out a champagne bottle from beneath the counter where it had been chilling and popped it open with a single thumb as he reached for her glass with the other hand.

“Just do that champagne trick and I think you’re good,” she said, extending her hand for her beverage.

“Perhaps you can be my native guide. What do you think, should we have a party?”

He watched expressionless as she took a sip from her drink. Not much of a reaction, or at least not any different from her usual joy at the presence of champagne at a post-exercise breakfast.

“Why don’t we start small,” she mused after some thought. “We should make dinner for the prime minister and his wife. To say thanks for the house. And he’s almost guaranteed to have a great time just being here, he will consider it an honor.”

“A sensible proposal. You sound like my mother when you make plans logically.”

“I assume that’s a good thing?”

“Quite.”

He walked around to stand behind her and rested his chin on her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her waist. As she took another sip, he couldn’t resist any longer.

“How’s your drink?”

“Actually this is delicious. I was going to tell you this is the best I’ve ever had, what is it?”

He smiled. “I was hoping you’d like it. There’s more where that came from.”

“I’m going to drink it way too fast, I keep resisting the urge to drink it all in one gulp.”

He took this to be a good sign. “What will you wear to dinner?” He changed the subject.

“I’ll probably get a new dress. You wouldn’t believe the fat royalty check that showed up in my bank account this morning. Suddenly everyone wants my book for some reason.” She laughed. “What if I’m just dating you to drive up my book sales?”

“An excellent plan that appears to be working. But how will you get rid of me once you’ve no longer any use of me.”

“Oh I have a plan for that too.”

“Yes?’

“In 40 or 50 years I’ll die. That’ll show you.”

“Very funny.”

She turned to the side and kissed his cheek. “It’s true though. But you’ve dealt with that before.”

“I must be honest, I handle it quite poorly.”

“I’m sorry for that. But there’s not much I can do differently. Promise me that when I die, you’ll give the world a gift of something I’d want them to have. Instead of going on a murder spree?”

“But murder is very cathartic.”

She pouted. He sighed. “I promise.”

“So,” he added, “did you just promise to keep me till you die?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” She said with a sly smile.

He turned her around on her stool to face him and pulled her in towards him as he stepped between her knees. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “In book sales.” She giggled.

Obviously at that moment the front door came open without so much as a knock. Loki sighed and took a step backwards. “So good of you to drop in brother.”

Thor came in the room but with marked hesitation and apparent heightened alertness. He looked around as if he suspected impending attack before approaching the kitchen island bar stools. Before he sat down, he looked around the seat and bent over to look underneath the countertop.

Loki did not respond to this, instead turning his attention to setting another place, albeit one far less elaborate. His girlfriend was far less dismissive.

“Is everything ok Thor? You came in here like you thought the place was trapped.”

“I can’t rule out that possibility.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Well, I’m not sure. In the last two weeks I have been cut and bled four times.”

“Is that unusual? I’ve seen how you train.”

He looked at her incredulously. “It’s very unusual, yes. First, Loki stabbed me during sparring, which he knows is against the rules.” Loki chuckled quietly at the idea that rules might matter to him. “But the other three times. I was over here, as usual, and I asked for one of those apples. And as Loki turned to give it to me, he stabbed my finger with the knife he used to cut it. And then two days later I went to open your back door to the yard and there was a sharp screw sticking out from the door handle and it stabbed me right through the hand.” As he described each of these alleged injuries, he was holding up the appendage that had been injured. There was no trace of a scar or wound on him.

“And then just this morning, at my own house, when I went to open my cabinet for a snack. I cut my foot on a protruding piece of metal.” The more he described his ordeal the more accusatory his tone became. His brother had not looked up from his task of preparing to put out more food. Thor lowered his head to meet his brother’s downward looking eyes.

“Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“It sounds like you should exercise more caution.” Loki replied without looking up.

“Half of those times you stabbed me, how should I be the one to exercise caution?”

“That’s fair. Perhaps I should as well. And what a shame to think our beautiful homes were poorly constructed.”

Thor turned and looked at Loki’s girlfriend. “Have you been stabbed by the house?”

She thought a moment. “I don’t think so.”

He turned back to his brother. “Isn’t that interesting. I seem to encounter little hazards everywhere, but she’s spared. What are the chances?”

Loki finally put down what he was holding and made eye contact. “Have I done something to earn your suspicion?”

Thor laughed from deep within his soul at the question. “My answer would be shorter if you asked me whether you’d done anything to earn my trust.”

“Why would I set traps for you? You know I have been enjoying our time here, I am not trying to be rid of you.” Loki acted a bit hurt.

Thor leaned forward a bit. “Aren’t you? I’ve enjoyed this time as much as any time I can remember. It’s been ages since we spent every morning playing in the yard together, enjoying meals together. And I can’t tell the last time you actually introduced me to your lover and let me get to know them.”

“You met the Grandmaster.”

“You said that was just an arrangement. And you didn’t introduce me to him, you denied knowing me when he enslaved me as a gladiatorial fighter. That’s as far from an introduction as anyone has ever been.”

“If you’re being technical.”

“The point is, I have been very happy being neighbors. And so I want to give you a chance to be honest with me and tell me why you have been stabbing me. I was supposed to go back to New York after I dropped you off, but I have stayed, because I am enjoying myself. But it is hard to keep ignoring the puncture wounds.”

Loki sighed. “Okay. I confess.”

Thor said “that’s a good start, tell me why.”

“Frigga once told me that there are healing properties in the blood of Asgardian gods. I tried the spell for years using my own and never knew why it wouldn’t work until I found out, you know.”

“You’re a frost giant, continue.”

“Well, with you being around so much, I suppose I saw an opportunity. I promise it isn’t dark magic, I can show you.”

Thor raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think to just ask me if I would participate in an experiment instead of setting about little traps everywhere to stab me?”

“Have you met me?”

Thor sighed. “What is the spell?”

Loki reached up into his pocket and extracted one page from the diary that he had set aside for this inevitable occurrence. He watched with anticipation as Thor scrutinized the page.

“Loki, this is just a theory, and it doesn’t seem like your type of magic. But this is mother’s handwriting and it does seem like a project she would undertake. Where did you get this?”

“I stole it from her study. Centuries ago.”

“That’s probably why it isn’t finished.”

“Well, I’m trying to make up for it now.”

Thor sighed. “Loki, there’s more magic in my blood than we know of. This is a lovely sentiment but you have not sufficiently earned my trust for me to just freely give you access to power, especially when you were so secretive about it to start. Can you please work on something that does not involve stabbing me?”

Loki sulked a little. “So you won’t help me? This project was a tribute to mother. It could have benefits for the humans and help me gain back some popularity with them.”

“Nice try. You won’t guilt me into letting you stab me again just yet. Do you want me to stay here with you longer or should I take my leave and head back to New York?”

“Please stay. I won’t stab you anymore.”

“Brother,” Thor put his hand on Loki’s shoulder and bent his head down again to catch his eyes. “Thank you for being truthful with me. Doesn’t that feel good, being honest with your brother for once?”

“Not as good as a successful experiment would have felt.”

“Loki”

“Yes, I suppose. I am sorry I stole your blood without permission.”

“There, see? That wasn’t so hard. This table is very beautiful, did I interrupt something?”

The three of them set about to enjoy an otherwise pleasant morning. Loki glanced over and noticed that his beloved had finished her drink and was pouring herself some more champagne, not understanding why the second glass did not taste quite as good as the first.

Thor’s realization was inconvenient but manageable. Loki calculated that if he had the dosing right, his supply of elixir should last the next six weeks. Probably another two or three could be extracted from the sample his doppleganger was collecting from Thor’s house under the cabinet. 

Plenty of time to come up with a new plan.  
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Sure enough, the prime minister was beside himself with joy at having been invited to dine with his gods. His enthusiasm for the prospect was off-putting to Loki. So off-putting that he had reconsidered his spur of the moment decision to conceal from his girlfriend that he was dosing her with a potion, distilled from his brother’s stolen blood, that may either turn her into a god or kill her. Putting all of it together sounded pretty bad, however, so he forged ahead with plan B, as usual.

The morning before the day the dinner was planned, she got back from her run at her usual time. But she didn’t trudge in the door, looking over her stats on her phone, as she usually did. Instead she came bounding in briskly, planted a mildly sweaty kiss on her sweetheart, and hopped into the shower. 

She emerged fully dressed and mildly disappointed at the lack of shower company, but saw that he was preparing a post run meal for her as had become his habit. That habit included pouring her a glass of champagne as the final touch when she arrived. She had worried that the extra drinking was going to catch up with her and hinder her running progress.

But her worry had not come to fruition. Her exercises were going better than ever.

“How’d it go?” he asked as he handed her the glass and turned to plating their meal.

“Really well actually. Usually it takes me about nine and a half minutes to run a mile but I got going at a really good pace today so I did an extra mile, they were all under 9 minutes. Usually I don’t go that fast unless I’m doing a very short run but I kept it up today.”

“ There, you see? The benefits of leisure and adherence to your training are paying off.”

“They must be. I feel great. That was one of my faster runs and I’m barely tired.”

“How wonderful.” He poured his own drink into a glass and sat down beside her. “I have a question.”

“That can’t be good.”

“Usually at a gathering with a king or leader, I have a list of agenda items for discussion. It has occurred to me that I am unclear as to the priorities for the coming meal and I thought we should consider what it is we are meant to accomplish.”

“Besides a free house and amnesty from the press?”

“We already have those.”

“And I’d like to keep them. We could play a little game I like to call ‘don’t push your luck.’”

He looked puzzled. “I am not familiar with this game.”

“I bet you aren’t. We have a good thing going here yes?”

“Of course. I feel contented for the first time in centuries or possibly ever.”

“Okay. So why do you want to press for more.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What I mean is if you get too greedy you could jeopardize what we already have. Have you heard the phrase a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush?”

He thought for a moment. “In this scenario if I am very clever, I could have all three birds?”

This was exasperating. “Let’s put this differently. You’re struggling to think of what you want to get from the prime minister, yes?”

“Exactly, thank you, so now let us think of some ideas.”

She shook her head. “Isn’t it because there’s not anything you want?”

He looked at her for a moment perplexed. “Well, influence, prestige, power. That sort of thing.”

“To what end?”

He thought for a moment how to explain to someone that power and influence are inherently valuable but could not think of the words. If she was incapable of understanding that power was its own end, how could he possibly explain it to her?

“Well, to have it. Obviously.”

“You have had power. Did it make you happier?”

“For a bit, that’s not the point.”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“Look, mortal, I know during your brief meager existence you believe you have found the secret to enlightenment and you’re going to share it with me. What do I know, I have only been at it for 1500 some odd years.”

She looked at him, unspeaking.

“That sounded worse than I meant. The point is, what do you think you know that I don’t?”

She remained silent.

“You cannot possibly know what things look like from my perspective, human.”

“I definitely won’t if you won’t answer my questions.”

“They are loaded questions.”

“Very, but that doesn’t mean I think I know the answers to them.”

“What?”

“They’re loaded questions but I don’t know the answers. But apparently neither do you. I asked you why seek power if it doesn’t make you happy. You got mad. So what does that mean?”

“It means I am done with this conversation.”

She shrugged. “Sure.”

He stood up and was pacing. “You are infuriating.”

“I know. It’s why you like me.”

He leaned down over her with his arms on either side of her head where she sat on the sofa and said angrily “It is.” She smiled coyly in return.

He tipped the rest of her champagne glass into her mouth as he took the glass from her, put it down on the table, and scooped her into his arms. He made sure to lock the front door on their way to the bedroom.  
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She relaxed contentedly beside him, enjoying the relative privacy and solitude of their shoreside house. It was no palace, but it was his. Really, so far, it was theirs.

“I am sorry I grew cross. I have brought you here as a companion, I should not belittle you by calling you a mortal.”

She laughed. “It’s true though. What is three decades of life to you? Like I said, I don’t claim to know the answers. I know some questions you don’t know the answers to.”

He looked across at her. “You know I enjoy your observations of emotional folly much better when they are directed at other people.”

“It gets worse. I have another one.”

“Of course you do.”

“You don’t value power. You value flexibility and freedom.”

“I do, do I?”

“You do. When I hear you talk about power for power’s sake, I don’t hear Loki. I hear Odin talking.”

He grunted. “Odin.”

“You like to roam. You only like power because it enables you to do what you want.”

“Hmm. I do like roaming and doing what I want.” Loki mused.

“Marching into downtown New York with an army. Not really your style. That’s Odin’s style.”

“That’s Thanos’s style.” He sighed. She thought to herself to shift up a little bit so his head was on her shoulder instead of the other way around like they had been, and put her arm around him. He accepted and nestled his head into her. “You know when Thanos found me he had no idea who I was. I was very disappointed my reputation didn’t precede me. All he knew was that I had survived floating through space. Which was great for him.”

“Because you were tough?”

A pause. “Because he could put me through any number of tortures without quite killing me.” He turned to look at her. “Immortality has its downsides.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it. But then he played off your desire to please your father.”

“Hence the army.” She gave him a comforting squeeze.

“You’re more of a palace intrigue kind of person. The puppeteer, setting up dominos, knight takes rook. That kind of thing.”

“Thank you for comparing all of my political achievements to games.”

“It was intentional.”

“It wasn’t wrong. I love games. You know Odin would say all of that is quite dishonorable.”

“Ha. What imperialist bullshit is that. Sending peasants to slaughter each other is more honorable than manipulating a few royals. Classist.” She scoffed.

“Everything is class with you.”

“Damn right. Fight the power.”

He rolled over so that he was looking up at her planted a delicate kiss on her clavicle. “Then how do you justify bedding down with a Prince?”

“That’s easy. You’re a pauper now. Barely a cent to your name.”

“Hardly.” He shifted around and put another kiss on her sternum. “I own this place. Landed gentry.”

“Even worse than a prince!” she exclaimed as he continued his trail of kisses to her navel. 

“Much,” he said pausing, idly stroking at her hip bone with his thumb. “I suppose I’ll just have to let you leave. It’s been a pleasure.” He looked up at her with his eyes, his chin resting just above her pelvic bone.

Leave she didn’t. He was successful at changing the subject.


	5. Growing Suspicious

The next morning she awoke early with a surprising amount of energy. Loki had been up for some time redecorating the dining room. At first he had attempted the extravagance of the great hall on Asgard, but that lacked any appropriate amount of intimacy for a small dinner. He next replicated the gawdy and colorful bar he had frequented while on Sakaar and for the first time realized just how drunk he had been when he thought that bar was enjoyable to look at. 

He had ultimately settled on a shockingly faithful recreation of a traditional Norweigan banquet hall from possibly the 17th or even late 16th century. Down to the minutest detail, between actual trimmings and illusion. Any historian might have given their right arm to come to dinner that night. But arms are not as useful as you would hope.

Loki took an unnecessarily long time to explain his process, but he was so happy with himself that she indulged his ramblings. He waved his hand through certain details to show her which he had conjured from memory and had her feel the materials to show her which were real. She murmured her approving oohs and aahs at his craftsmanship and artistry. She didn’t have to lie, it was a sight to behold.

As he set back to his work of preparing to host two people and his brother, she went out the door for her morning run. What had formerly been an occasional hobby had become a daily routine and over the last few weeks she had noticed marked improvement in her performance which she attributed to a mix of general contentment and more regular training. She decided this morning to indulge in a nice, slow, long run of 10 miles.

At first she paced herself as usual for a longer run, striving for an 11 minute mile so she could sustain her pace for the nearly two hours she estimated her run would take. But she quickly grew bored with a pace that now felt to her like a slog. She decided to look away from her GPS and settled into a speed that felt comfortable and sustainable.

Then the voice came over her headphones. First mile. Seven minutes, thirty-seven seconds. That couldn’t possibly be right. She was not sure she had ever run a mile much faster than eight minutes in her life and she was attempting an easy sustainable pace that was not even making her breathe heavily. She attributed it to a GPS glitch, being near the remote coastline. She continued on. Second mile. Seven minutes, twenty-four seconds. She stopped and paused her GPS to look. It was a smooth flat line down the road, no sign of any error in her electronics. She went to her maps and searched for directions home. She was indeed two miles from the house according to those directions. She had never run a mile that fast before in her life and now had run two of them?

She decided to push the pace.

The voice came over the speaker. Mile three: six minutes, seventeen seconds.

This was hardly a super-human speed. There were lots of women who could run at these speeds for entire marathons. Much faster and she would have been among elite athletes with professional sponsorships. But she had spent her entire running life as an amateur at the back of the pack, just happy to be outdoors and moving.

Mile four: five minutes, fifty-seven seconds.

She stopped and looked down to see if that could possibly be right and looked back. Based on her recollection from her previous runs over the last few weeks, she was indeed about four miles away from where she had started. 

This was not the product of training. Something was going on. She realized she was neither sweating nor winded. She checked her pulse. 100. As if she had just engaged in a moderately paced walk.

Sweet Frigga, she found herself thinking. What has your son done to me.

And the instant she finished that thought, she blacked out, and collapsed to the ground.


	6. Frigga

She found herself in a white marble space lit by clouded white light from no particular source. Before her was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen with long, curly red hair and golden yellow finery, seated on a large throne and looking down at her. She looked down at her own clothes. She was wearing a floor-length peach-colored chiffon gown and silver bangles on her arms. She liked it. If she could have conjured herself a formal dress, it might have been this one.

“My daughter. Come closer.”

She did a double take at the authoritative voice that called her daughter. 

“Am I dead?”

“No child. You’re just visiting. Welcome to Valhalla.”

At this revelation she flushed, at a total loss for protocol. “Um, sorry. I’m an American. From Earth. I’m...not used to greeting queens. Frigga?” The figure nodded and beckoned her closer again. She considered a curtsy but decided that obedience was probably a better bet.

“You are beautiful. I’m not surprised you caught his attention. Do you have any idea how happy you have made my son over these last weeks?”

She blushed again. “Some idea. He’s not always one to show how he feels.”

“What an understatement that is. I am so glad to finally meet you. You know he never visits me.”

“Does he know he can?”

“I am not sure he does. But you figured it out.”

“By accident. I had no idea that thinking your name would transport me to Valhalla.”

“You did not just think my name, you prayed to me. I granted it.”

“You said you are aware of how happy he has been. Are you able to observe us?”

“A little. I cannot quite see, I did not know your face. But I can get a strong sense. And I like to keep an eye on him. I cannot tell you how pleased I have been to see both of my boys happy, resting, and together.”

An awkward pause. “So, you can’t see...but. How much do you” she trailed off.

The mother goddess smiled. “I have had to, how would you describe this to humans, tune out a great deal recently? As I said, I am glad you are making him so...happy. But I don’t need to see him quite that happy.”

Just as she thought she could not be blushing more than she already was.

“He lied to Thor about why he has been stabbing him you know.” Their mother remarked.

“Naturally.” came the reply.

“When he was a small child, I brewed a potion from my own blood to give him the strength of gods. You would not know it now but he was sickly and small at first. We did not think he would survive.”

She thought for a minute at this revelation. “Is he sick? He said he was making a healing potion but he said it was for humans.”

Frigga shook her head. “No child, his godhood is quite permanent. He is making it for you.”

“Me?”

Frigga nodded. “Perhaps you have noticed his tendency to become attached. His need to feel loved. Accepted.”

“Another understatement.”

“Quite. He became yours just as he has found my formula. He trying to keep you. I suspect he will succeed, although I must warn you that becoming a god is not so simple as drinking a daily elixir. He does not remember the trials that led to his ascension. He was so young. Probably too young. It’s probably why he is prone to a juvenile temper.”

The human was amused. “Or a youthful spirit?” She thought for a moment. “This would explain a few things.”

Frigga looked at her. “Are you getting any sense of what your powers are? Or is it too early?” She leaned forward as though that might help her discern. “I have some suspicions but I think I will hold my guess.” 

“My powers?”

“If you ascend you will have a domain and abilities within it.” The queen said as if this was something everyone ought to know. 

“I can run farther and faster.”

“I should think so.”

She thought for a moment and had another realization as she put her forehead in her hand as though she had a headache. This explained something else too.

“You’ll be fine.”

Since she hadn’t said anything the human looked perplexed at Frigga.

“The implant that’s coming out of your arm. The two of them have been running around for centuries and I’m not a grandmother yet. It takes an extraordinary event to conceive a god. Thor was conceived after an interplanetary lightning storm. Odin had two biological children after thousands of years.” 

“You read minds? Is that a Valhalla thing?”

“I have always read minds.” Even for a potential mother in law, Frigga was intense. The human thought to herself that a month in was fairly early to meet her boyfriend’s family even if they weren’t gods from another world living in an afterlife reserved for heroes. Then again they had essentially moved in together. And he was apparently dosing her secretly with a tonic to make her immortal because he had decided he wanted to keep her around for thousands of years so there was that. 

This was not the morning run was not turning out as planned.

The image of Frigga began to fade. “Tell my son to visit and that I am happy he is happy. And thank you.” There was no time to respond before the image faded entirely.

“Yes sir, my subject was running fast when she collapsed by the roadside. No sir, not inhumanly fast but about twice her prior calculated speed. Her vitals are stable, she’s just non-responsive. Wait, I think she’s waking up. Ma’am, the evac is on its way, please remain still, you have had a fall. Are you injured?”

She looked up and saw a professional looking woman with short hair, in a black suit and white shirt, talking into an earpiece and crouching over her, holding her wrist as if to check her pulse. She brushed off the attentions of the suited responder and began to sit up.

“Ma’am I’m going to have to ask you not to sit up until you have been evaluated, you fell from a standing height and remained unconscious for several minutes, I believe you are likely concussed.”

“Who are you, why are you here? You sound American”

“My name is Agent Beasley, why I am here is not important. Can you tell me your birthday?”

“That’s a rude question. Have you been following me? You look like a SHIELD agent. Why do I have a SHIELD agent?”

“You’re delirious from your head injury and are mistaken.”

“Now I know you’re a SHIELD agent.”

“Look ma’am, why do you think you would have a SHIELD agent. Why did you collapse? Is everything all right? Why were you running so fast from the house? Do you need an escape? We can put you somewhere safe from him.”

“Safe from my boyfriend? I’m fine. I overdid it. My training has been going really well and I really pushed it.”

“An understatement. Usually you jog, that was a sprint. For over two miles.”

“Thanks?” The agent began shining a flashlight in her eyes. “I’m fine.” She added. “I don’t think I hit my head. I’m just going to head back”

“I would not advise that you decline medical treatment given your extended period of unconsciousness.”

“Please, I’m just going to head home.”

“You are four miles from Loki’s house. I can transport you and have a medical team meet you there.”

She panicked. Who knows what a medical team would discover about whatever was happening to her. Assuming her vision was real and not the product of a concussion. “No, no medical team. I decline, against your advice. How long have you been following me?”

“I am not at liberty to discuss my assignments.”

She chortled. “You’re not allowed to tell me about myself? I’m an assignment now.” She mocked the agent’s seriousness. “My subject has collapsed, what do I do?”

The agent stared at her unmoved. “Maybe you are fine. I would prefer to transport you back to the residence, it is four miles.”

“Deal.”

Once they arrived, the agent insisted on walking her inside. Loki put down what he had been working and came to the door when he saw the agent. “Sir, I am Agent Beasley, your girlfriend collapsed by the side of the road and was unconscious for several minutes but has refused medical attention.”

“Darling?” Loki sounded genuinely concerned and maybe a little guilty.

“I’m fine, I overdid it. I was making really good time and got carried away.”

The agent was exasperated. “I strongly recommend that you accept medical attention. You were entirely non-responsive. I attempted vigorously to arouse you to no avail.”

Loki’s girlfriend snortlaughed at the last sentence which caused the agent to give up and leave. 

Loki, however, continued to look at her, arms crossed with skepticism. “You collapsed?”

“I didn’t collapse.”

“The agent said you did.”

“Yeah. She fell for it.”

He looked at her askance. “Fell for it?”

“I figured out I had a tail. So I pretended to faint to see and sure enough she came running.”

He continued to look skeptical.

“She said you were out for several minutes.”

“I had to sell it.”

His frown lightened a little bit. “Darling I didn’t think you had the skills to pick up on a tail, I may be proud of you.”

“What do you think this is, amateur hour?”

“Yes. Very much I do think that. Which is why I’m still not sure I believe you.”

“I feel as healthy as I have ever felt.” She took a few steps towards him and put her hands around his shoulders. “I can prove it to you.”

“Really? I may require a good deal of proof.”

“Can I have my champagne first?”


	7. Secrets Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and his girlfriend have both kept major secrets from each other. But they are not the kind of secrets that can be kept very long, even for two skilled and stubborn liars.

The dinner could have gone better.

The prime minister was barely the wiser at the rising tension between Loki and his companion as the dinner continued. As far as he was concerned it was one of the greatest nights of his life, seated at a table with his ancient gods, learning more about his own culture than he had ever dreamt possible. And he spoke at length with Loki’s delightful companion about her book.

“Are you sure there isn’t any Norwegian in you?”

“I really wouldn’t know what all is floating around in there. I never got the tests done. I guess I can’t rule it out.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. When I read your book, right when it first came out, I said to my wife, you’ll remember, I said ‘this woman has a Norwegian heart.’ You remember dear.” His wife nodded. 

“Well, I guess in a way the premise of my book was what if America was a little more like Norway. Universal basic income and healthcare, a more collaborative attitude. The idea that we take care of each other.”

“My feelings exactly. We take care of each other. I like that.”

“How sentimental,” Loki chimed in, “but I have found one is better off taking care of one’s own self.”

“Please,” Thor chimed in. “You always say that, but when have you ever taken care of yourself? You always find people to take you in. I would love to see you survive really on your own, in the wilderness. For a day.”

Loki looked defensive. “I have. I just prefer a bed.”

Thor laughed. “And sharing it.”

“As one does.”

But as the conversation advanced through multiple rounds of wine and ale, tension rose. 

“Nope. No children. Thousands of women across dozens of galaxies. And not a one.” Thor was pretty drunk.

“At some point though not to be too personal, but will the pantheon be restored? Not that two gods are not enough.” The prime minister added hastily.

“I have no idea.” Thor said. 

“If you had tried right after the snap maybe,” Loki’s girlfriend chimed in. “That’s probably as important as an intergalactic lightning storm.” She had just enough wine to forget what to self-censor. 

Loki looked at her aghast. “A lightning storm?”

She realized too late her mistake.

“What lightning storm? I didn’t do it.” Thor drank more of his ale.

“You wouldn’t have, you were conceived in one.” Loki explained

“Why are we talking about my conception? I don’t remember it. I’d rather not think on it.”

“That is a good question. Why are we talking about it?” Loki looked back at his girlfriend, seething with disapproval. “Where did you hear about it. Or read about it?”

The prime minister was oblivious to the animosity. “That’s fascinating. It makes sense. I didn’t realize lightning storms could be interplanetary.”

“Very rarely.” Loki did not look away from his companion to speak. Great, she thought to herself, I’ve given myself away.  
He did indeed confront her after they bid farewell to the elated prime minister.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your girlfriend dummy.” She was still a little tipsy although she had slowed down after misspeaking.

“Then how did you retrieve my mother’s diary from a magic pocket and read ancient Asgardian script?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know something you should not know. How did you learn it?”

“Frigga told me.”

She witnessed him becoming incensed like he might break something.

“My mother is dead.”

“And she wishes you would visit.” She went and got a bottle of wine that he had sealed, thinking that if this was how the evening was going she may as well have another drink. But he snatched it from her.

“Visit?!” He was now shouting.

“In Valhalla.”

“The way to visit Valhalla is to die. Are you telling me to die?”

“No it isn’t. I visited. Frigga says she loves you.”

“You spoke to my deceased mother? When were you going to tell me?!”

“When were you going to tell me you’ve been drugging me with god juice?” This conversation probably should have waited till she was sober. At this she realized he was on the verge of flying off at the handle. No wonder his mother compared his impulse control to a child’s.

“Calm down honeybear,” she said nervously. To her surprise, he did soften just enough to catch his breath.

“You know?” He asked, knowing he too had been caught in a lie.  
“I ran a sub-six minute mile this morning. I had clues. When I passed out, I went to Valhalla and saw Frigga.”

“So you did pass out! You lied to me!”

“You drugged me.”

“I’m making you a goddess. It’s hardly the same.”

“It’s experimental.”

“It’s worked before.” He paused, “Once.” He had regained his composure and went and sat on the sofa. Fortunately for them he had not gotten quite so drunk as she. She went and laid down with her head in his lap and looked up at him. Out of habit he stroked her hair.

“I should have told you. I didn’t want to frighten you. Forever is a long time. And I didn’t want to get your hopes up if it didn’t work.”

“I was going to tell you about Frigga. I wasn’t sure it was real. You confirmed that with the lightning storm thing.”

“I am just hurt. Why hasn’t she spoken to me?”

“You have to pray to her.”

He looked down at her. “You prayed to my mother?”

“Well, I sort of asked her a question in my head.”

“What question?”

“I asked her what you did to me.” A pause before adding, “She said she has never seen you so happy.”

He squirmed. “She’s been watching us?”

“I asked that too. Not like that. Don’t worry.”

He shifted around so he was reclining and she scooted up to rest her head on his shoulder.

“So all this time I could have been speaking to her. You know the last thing I said to her was that she was not my mother.”

“She knows that wasn’t true honeybear.”

“That doesn’t make me not regret saying so.”

“No I guess not. But she knew.”

“That probably hurt her more then.” He sighed. “I do not know how many days she drew blood from her own veins to give me life.”

“Nothing any mother wouldn’t do if she had the ability.”

“Not helping.” He sighed. “So, I can visit her. Whenever I’m ready.”

“That’s what she told me.”

“Hmm. What if I’m not?”

“Well, what would get you ready?”

“Being sober probably would be a good start.”

“You’re not as drunk as I am.”

“Of course not. This isn’t Sakaar.” 

She slipped her leg over to the other side of him and sat up, placing both palms on his chest. “Well, if you’re drunk, and I’m more drunk, and we have some time to kill.” He sat up and kissed her tenderly. “You know human men don’t always prefer a girl they can bring home to mother, they claim to want someone more deviant.” 

“I have never found the two incompatible. And I’m not human.” His next kisses were less tender.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning instead of going on her usual run, she awoke early to see him sitting in the parlor, deep in thought.

“Are you ready?” She asked him.

“I don’t know.” He thought for a moment. “Can you come with me?”

“I thought you might want a private conversation. But I can try to come if you think it might help you.”

He reached out for both of her hands and pulled her down so she was seated next to him. “I should go alone. But if I leave it to myself I am not sure I will go through with it.”

“Okay. Are you ready? Do you know how to pray to her?”

“Of course I do but why don’t you tell me anyway.” He lied.

She laughed. “Well, I’m not completely sure. Really I just asked her a very sincere question in my head. And the next thing I knew I was in her court.”

“Okay. What do I ask.”

“What about ‘mother can I see you?’”

“How quaint.”

“Well?”

“I cannot imagine passage to Valhalla is as simple as sitting here and saying with all my heart ‘mother, I wish to see you.’”

And as he said it, he toppled over onto the sofa unconscious. She thought to herself “can I come too?” But nothing happened.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He looked around at his ethereal surroundings. “What cruel trick is this, that’s all I had to do?”

Frigga looked down. “I’m glad to see you too Loki. My favorite son.”

He looked up at her in amazement. “Are you supposed to tell me that?”

“It seemed more important not to when I was alive. But Odin made no secret who was his favorite. So why should I have done? Not that everyone didn’t know.”

“I’m not sure I did.”

She laughed. “I know you didn’t. You took my affection for granted and chased after Odin’s which he withheld. Everyone else knew.”

He looked up at her and his eyes welled up. In this plane he lacked his usual ability to conceal. For the first time in centuries she could see his tears.

“Mother I’m so sorry. What I said to you. I didn’t mean” she cut him off.

“Loki do you think I have doubted since the moment I saw you that I am your mother? Whatever you said when you were hurt did not change that.” He looked sullenly down at his feet for a time, trying to muster his next words. He had planned for so long a grand monologue for his illusion to deliver whenever his family finally asked him what happened while he was missing. But standing here, being forced to say the words with his own lips, he found himself uncharacteristically speechless.

“Thanos tortured me.” He barely looked up.

“I know.” She extended out a hand to him. He came and sat at her feet and rested his head on her knee as though he were again a child who had skinned his knee or been teased on the play yard. “It’s okay. They’ve forgiven you for what you did.”

“I’m not sure they have.” He paused before adding “I’m not sure I have.”

“And that, my son, is where the good lingers in you yet. Your doubts.”

He laughed through his tears. “I can never be completely good mother, you know that.”

“Are any of us?”

“That girl I found might be.”

Frigga smiled. “I wouldn’t be so sure. And power can change someone.”

“Then I intend to keep corrupting her. She meant to come with me just now.”

“I wanted to talk to you alone. I need to tell you how to finish the spell. Listen closely, I cannot keep you here long.”

He looked up at his mother, not for the first time in awe and listened. One more story time.


	8. New Abilities

“Human I am giving you one more chance to explain to me why I came over here expecting breakfast and instead found my brother non-responsive with you at his side.”

“I told you he’s in a trance.”

Thor leaned over his brother again and turned his ear to listen. “My brother has never entered the Odin-sleep before. I did not think it possible.”

“First time for everything.”

“Why would my brother enter the Odin-sleep?”

“Why did Odin enter the Odin-sleep?”

“Why don’t you ask him.” Thor asked derisively.

“Maybe I will.” She mumbled cryptically.

“Brother I’m not sure whether to be flattered at your concern or disheartened at your lack of confidence.” Loki said without opening his eyes.

“Loki, where were you?” Thor exclaimed.

“Valhalla. If you must know.”

“How in the universe did you get to Valhalla.”

“Mother brought me in for a visit. She told me I was her favorite.”

Thor laughed. “Tell me something I didn’t already know. Where were you really?”

Loki sat up. “Did you mean that brother? You knew I was her favorite?”

Thor looked at him confused. “You didn’t? I was father’s favorite, you were mother’s. They may as well have had signs printed for our chambers. Loki’s room, Frigga's favorite son.” He sounded entirely unbothered at this revelation that his mother loved someone else more, as though he had accepted this fact long ago. Which he had, thanks to the consolation of being the favorite of the parent who happened to be king.

Loki looked hurt. “No I didn’t realize.” 

Thor clapped him on the back. “Well I make a point of always paying attention. I suppose you do not.” 

That glib retort, after an already emotional afternoon, set him off. Loki leapt off the sofa and went for his brother’s neck with both hands. Thor grabbed Loki around the torso and bodyslammed him into the floor creating a thunderously loud crack. Loki reached over, grabbed the nearest ankle, and yanked Thor’s leg out from under him. Next thing she knew, the two ancient and powerful deities were fighting like schoolboys, pulling hair and throwing punches.

“Boys, please calm down, I don’t want to get hurt collaterally.”

Thor had Loki in a headlock and Loki was punching Thor in the ribs, but they somehow both turned to look up at her. 

“Loki he did that on purpose, he wanted to play.”

Loki, starting to calm down, tried to look around at his brother but was still in the headlock. “Is that true Thor, do you insult me to bait me into a fight for your amusement?”

Thor smiled. “It’s so easy. You go for it every time.”

Loki was about to launch back into it but a stern look from his sweetheart made him rethink it. “I could use exercise, why don’t we go outside.”

Thor pouted. “It’s more fun when you mean it. And you seemed like you wanted to blow off steam after your trip to Valhalla. Did you see father?”

“No actually just mother. And you are right I am a bit tense. Let me get my daggers.”

“I didn’t agree to make it that real.” Thor caveated as they exited towards the yard.

She could tell that their mood had lightened some as they ventured outside, leaving her alone for the first time to muse over her own trip to the Asgardian afterlife. Her god boyfriend’s deceased mom approved of their relationship and was wondering what kind of powers she was going to develop as she was dosed with secret blood potion. She could now run as fast as an elite marathoner and not raise her heart rate significantly. She had entertained the Prime Minister of Norway and ordered the thunder-god Thor to take his petty squabbling outside.

Sure. Why not. 

She got herself some coffee and looked out the window at her boys who had gone right back to grappling. Thor had hurled Loki fifteen feet into a tree that he impacted right with the center of his spine. Loki seemed to find this maneuver annoying and retaliated by ducking under Thor and allowing him to hit the tree headfirst as he charged. She looked down at her comparatively frail human form. Access god-level fortitude was not unappealing. Although as Loki had said, the ability to be hurt over and over again without dying had its downsides. A shiver went up her own currently uninjured spine at this thought. She still did not know exactly what he had endured from the Titan. Or what it would have taken to hurt him so badly he wouldn’t talk about it.

She decided to run towards the nearby town which was about six miles out, instead of down the coast as she usually did. Knowing she had a tail, she kept her speed to a suspicious but plausible seven minute mile and was in the town square in well under an hour. It was a small town that was powered by “escape to a simpler time” tourism. She slowed down and paused her GPS tracker to enjoy the scenery, hoping she was largely unrecognizable in her running clothes. Fortunately word had not gotten to the outside world that this town was where the deities were residing. The town’s tourism depended on being quaint and they did not want to jeopardize this by catering to a fad. After all, they did not expect their wandering gods would stay forever.

In general the locals were highly respectful, even distant. The prime minister had chosen his location well, she thought.

Unfortunately, there was a group of American boys visiting. She thought to herself that she called them boys not to forgive their trespasses out of some sympathy for innocence, which she was sure they lacked in spades, but more as a reflection of their exercise of impulse control. These were not crunchy dudes backpacking through Europe and meeting the locals. More like entitled trust fund babies drinking through Europe.

Joy.

Naturally one of them saw her and started saying the things drunk frat boys say when they become aware of someone who’s visibly female and alone.

As usual, initially she scoffed and kept walking without dignifying their shenanigans with a response. If you react, they win, she thought to herself for the thousandth time. But for some reason, she felt entitled to more basic respect than she was used to, now that she was not only a grown woman but a god’s companion. This time, she couldn’t let it go.

As she reached the other side of the group she shouted back at their instigator. “You should be ashamed of yourself.” She instantly felt regret as she heard him rise from the table where he was seated to follow her. She kept walking and looked around for a friendly face in case she was about to get into trouble.

“You’re right.” she heard from behind her.

She turned around. “I’m what?”

She saw the young man, probably barely 20, substantially her junior, standing before her and holding his artificially tattered white baseball cap in two hands like a Dickensian street urchin, looking down at his shoes. “I’m sorry, that was really disrespectful. I was just showing off for those guys and it wasn’t fair to you. It won’t happen again.” He put his cap back on, turned around, and walked back to his friends, brushing off their jeers and insults at his apparent weakness, if showing basic courtesies to women can fairly be called a weakness.

That was a first. She would have to remember that line. Not that she thought lightning would strike in the same place twice. Although she did have a friend who specialized in lightning strikes.


	9. God Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that the secret was out, Loki decides his girlfriend should start exploring her abilities to strengthen her connection to Valhalla and its energy. To his disappointment, her early lessons are total failures.
> 
> Or are they?

“Now that you know about my little experiment, we should begin your studies.” Was the abrupt greeting she received upon her return.

“My studies?” she asked him, having only just come back in the door from the fastest 12 mile run in her life. Even factoring in her brief stop in town.

“Yes. We must put effort into discovering your god powers and developing your sorcery skills” he said conclusively, as if from on high. She looked into the parlor, the one decorated in ornate Asgardian style, and saw that he had set up the table with some books, a small floating glass orb, and an assortment of simple palm-sized shapes carved out of wood. She assumed he had been keeping them in his pocket because she had no idea what planet (planets?) these items came from. 

She was not sweaty but felt like she needed an immediate post-exercise shower out of unbreakable habit. But he seemed so eager. 

“Where did you get all of this?” she did her best to seem interested.

“Some keepsakes I grabbed from Asgard one of the last times I was there. Mother used these for my sorcery training. She would be pleased to see them in use again I think.” He was running his hand fondly over one of the books as he explained and reminisced.

Great. This was not something she could bow out of gracefully. He was preparing to relive childhood memories using relics from his destroyed homeworld. She settled in for a long day as he started explaining their functions. “These may seem like simple wooden blocks, and that is because they are. But we can use these to test if you possess powers of telekinesis or mind reading or clairvoyance.” He was rolling one of the trinkets lovingly in his hands before he continued. 

“As I recall, we start by having you learn the different blocks so you can focus on them even when you cannot see them.” He held up one that was shaped like a little sun, a flat circle with triangular rays around its edges. She went over to take the block, but instead of standing facing him to take it, she turned around and stood in front of him so they were facing the same direction, forcing him to wrap his arms around her to continue aiding in her study of the small wooden sun.

He obliged but continued to be focused on their task.

“Here,” he said pressing the block into her palms. “Get to know how this first block looks and feels so you can picture it in your mind’s eye.” She obliged, turning over the little sun in her hands and rubbing her fingers along its various sides, as he looked over her shoulder with approval. Still, she wished that given how she had placed herself, he could take his mind off the blocks. She was certainly struggling with her focus. There was a long pause before he continued the lesson.

“Okay, what do I do with this block now?”

He blinked and shook his head. “Sorry, I lost my train of thought for a moment. Where were we?”

She leaned back just a little bit so she was pressed into him. “I was getting to know this block.”

“Yes,” he said after another pause. “I admit I am finding myself slightly distracted.” She felt him lean his head down so his cheek graced the side of her cheek as he pulled her in a little closer. 

“How old is this block?” She asked him.

“Hundreds, potentially thousands of years old.”

“What I’m hearing is that it will keep another hour.” It was risky to put him off something he had set his mind to, especially when that something was attempting to replicate his mother’s teachings, possibly at her urging during their conversation in the afterlife realm. But she was in luck. He turned just enough to smell her hair, deeply. 

“At least,” came the whispered reply.  
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“I suppose we should get back to your studies” he remarked as they lay embracing some time later, although he made no immediate efforts to move. Not that she was exhausted but she did wish that he would occasionally feel fatigue so she could relax. 

And no sooner than she wished it. “Although after all the excitement yesterday, and my trip to Valhalla, I could do with a brief rest.” He pulled her in closer and closed his eyes. Momentarily leaving her somewhat alone to think about how convenient this was becoming. First, the frat boy in the square who was struck with remorse. Now Loki, first overcome with lust and then fatigue, just as she wished it. Come to think of it, the day before he and Thor had calmed down at her urging, despite being mid brawl.

It was an interesting pattern. Worthy of more experimentation.

Loki was forced to give up on sorcery training for the day when his brother came over for afternoon yard exercises. The relics were hidden away in their pocket. She read and worked on her writing while they trained until she grew bored. She looked out the window at the boys who were practicing maneuvers with large wooden staffs. How this kept them entertained for so long she couldn’t guess.

Okay. Time to experiment a little bit. Her wishes seemed to be coming true. What was she doing to make her wishes come true? She looked outside and wished that Thor would drop his staff. No reaction. She focused really hard. Drop the staff. Nothing. Maybe she was imagining that her wishes were coming true and in reality she was just having a streak of good luck. She tried one more time. Drop. The. Staff. She wished with all her might. It didn’t work. Maybe she had to really want it and she didn’t really want him to drop his staff. At least he could have the decency to be a little clumsy.

As she had that thought, he still did not drop the staff. But he did trip. He caught his toe on the ground and fell flat on his face. Loki promptly took credit for it and held his staff right over Thor in a victory stance as Thor rolled over and looked up. 

“You didn’t do that, I tripped.”

“How did you trip? You didn’t trip yourself. I tripped you.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Fine, is it really better if you tripped on your own foot?” Loki pressed his staff at Thor’s chest. Thor took the opportunity to grab it and swing it back, sending Loki flying over his head towards the ground.

Our experimenter pondered her victory. Maybe she was overreaching by wishing for something as specific as drop the staff. Maybe she could grant herself vague wishes not specific wishes. Like a miniature genie. Not a real genie. Just a modest granting her own vague wishes genie. That doesn’t make any sense. It was a good thing no one was around and that she wasn’t saying any of this out loud.

When they came back in, Loki was feeling triumphant. It had been some time since he had gotten Thor to land flat on his face. Thor was feeling irritated. As much as he tried to play at being a good sport, it bothered him when his brother was smug.

She registered these observations almost subconsciously until she realized that while Loki was wearing his victory, maybe even overdoing it for effect, Thor was hiding his irritation behind a smile. But she could plainly sense that he was annoyed and slightly embarrassed. She puzzled over this for a moment. It was not that she saw something in his face or heard in his voice his true feelings. He was hiding them pretty well behind casual post-athletics banter. 

Plain as day, she sensed it. His feelings emanated from him like sound waves or light beams even though they were neither. She tried to figure out where the sense was coming from and determined it was approximately around the bridge of her nose. She tapped it, hoping she was not growing extra eyes nostrils. Everything felt normal.

Upon this realization she thought back. Shame. Lust. Calm. Clumsiness. Fatigue. All her wishes that had come true were wishes for how someone might feel. And now on top of that she could tell how someone was feeling even if they hid it. 

A new wish. She wished that Thor would feel better about having tripped. She watched, or listened, or whatever verb best describes how she ascertained that as she wished this, his embarrassment and frustration settled down. Visually, she saw his shoulders became less tense and she heard his sigh. “Good fighting today brother. You got me.” He offered with a genuine clap on the back that made Loki smile. Less his previous smug amusement and more a moment of true affection at having been acknowledged and praised for athleticism. A warmth of feeling emanated from him. 

And as Loki turned his attentions towards her, she saw still other feelings rise. Contentment. Satisfaction. Love, even. And with that love, an urgent need that it be returned. She walked over and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I saw you trip him. Well done.” she whispered in his ear. Which made him positively glow. She focused on helping him feel that stronger. And for the rest of the afternoon he was in the highest spirit he had enjoyed in years.

The next morning, the blocks were back out and teacher stressed that he was feeling badly for having blown through her lessons the day before. He set down the sun and got out a little cube. Or rather an approximate cube, like a six-sided die but larger, with rounded indents on each side. Each of the edges had a slight outward curve to it such that the corners ended in points. It was just smaller than a tennis ball. 

She turned the cube over in her hands and thought of feelings of nostalgia and asked him. “Is there something special about this cube?”

He paused for a moment, gazing down at it. “Yes, actually, that was perceptive. I believe this was the first item I managed to retrieve from the pockets.” He told her the story about how he had been training with the items for longer than he could remember. While his mother had shown him time and time again how to put the items away in the pockets, he had not been able to get them back out. But this near-cube, with its perfect curves and elegant balance and symmetry, he had finally retrieved by focusing not only on its appearance but also how it felt to hold it in his hands, which was the real secret to the pockets. It was a major breakthrough and he remembered how proud his mother had been.

To her astonishment, as he concluded the story, he allowed her to witness him shed a tear.

“Sorry,” he said, brushing the tear to the side with his thumb. “I’m not sure what came over me. I did not expect to be so emotional reliving my days of instruction with mother. I suppose this stirs up a lot of memories that I had buried.” He was still looking down at the cube.

“Hey,” she said, “That’s ok. It doesn’t just have to be about me, I’m glad you’re getting something out of this time.”

He laughed. “So far it’s just me getting anything out of it. These lessons are supposed to benefit you as well. You will grow stronger if you are able to find and practice your abilities.” She sensed his longing to succeed. To please. To measure up to expectations. In fact, as she explored this feeling she realized just how overwhelming this desire was for him. And she wanted to gratify that need. 

But to his mild disappointment, when he held the sun and cube behind his back, she didn’t have the first idea which one was in his right hand and which in his left. Nor could she cause them to shake, levitate, or even vibrate a little bit on the table. She and the inert wooden cubes, thus far, shared no connection. But he did find that the harder she seemed to be trying, the more affection he felt for her. And the earnesty of her efforts began to make him feel equally loved as she tried harder and harder. 

Or at least, he assumed that was why he felt so loved.  
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For the third time that week they lay in bed following a prematurely shortened sorcery class interrupted by almost unbridled lust. Widely renowned as a god of tricks, the god whose real domain was, more accurately described, perception took a moment to think to himself as he realized something may have escaped his notice.

“Darling,” he asked the woman laying next to him.

“Yes?”

“I had been under the impression that our teaching sessions for exploring your powers had been going rather poorly.”

“Had you?” she responded in all innocence.

“I had, but it has just now also occurred to me that in that assumption I had not inquired. How are our sessions going?”

“Shockingly well.”

He turned and looked at her. “I assume your powers extend beyond filling your lover with lustful ideations? Or have I made the acquaintance of a love goddess?” She explained that she had also both sensed and coaxed shame, fatigue, hunger, nostalgia, triumph, and a number of other emotions out of her unwitting guinea pigs who had mostly been him and his brother so far. She omitted clumsiness from her description, wanting him to preserve his memory of tripping Thor.

“So,” he said, nestling down into the pillow as he pulled her in with his arm, grinning, “My very own empath.”

“Well hang on a minute, don’t say I’m ‘your empath’ like your puppet, and don’t start getting ideas.”

“Too late.” He beamed. “‘Start getting ideas’ is my middle name.”

“I don’t plan to go around manipulating people without their consent. You’re an exception, since you did this to me.”

“You don’t have to plan it. Things happen. Maybe you will have to use your powers.” He seemed only halfway in the conversation and halfway in his head.

“Loki…”

“Almost all my life I have needed a back-up plan for getting out of jail, and I have had to use illusions and words to persuade or trick my way to freedom. Think of the shortcuts we could take.”

“We? Slow down there, I’ve never been arrested.”

“You’ll love it. What a thrill, when little people think they have you locked away.”

She furrowed her brows at him and then laughed and rolled her eyes. “You like being caught? That explains some things.”

“Sometimes that’s part of the fun. Other times that’s part of the plan. Occasionally it just happens.” He shrugged. She cocked her head a little to the side.

“I guess if I’m going to live a few thousand years I probably can’t stay out of trouble that whole time.” She mused.

“That’s the spirit.” He was pleased.  
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	10. Into the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair experiment with her growing powers and soon grow weary of small potatoes. As we conclude part I, we pave the way for part II. Ascension

“I thought you said we were invisible. Everyone is glaring at us.”

The pair were walking along the banks of the Thames, across the water from Big Ben, headed towards the aquarium past the various bustling establishments catering to tourists and locals alike. He had persuaded her that empathic abilities cannot effectively be developed cloistered away in a remote house in a small rural village using small unfeeling wooden blocks. He was right that a change of scenery was in order and the heart of London brought welcome excitement.

But this was the first time she had walked through a crowd since her abilities began to develop. Their emotions rang like a cacophony. She wouldn’t have said it was overwhelming but it was certainly distracting. The sensory overload made the usually overcast and mostly subdued London feel more like the clubbing district of Osaka with its running neon lights and equally neon musical beats. It was a little much to take in.

“I said they can’t see us, there is a difference.” 

She glanced around. It was true that the people around them emoted mild irritation and repressed judgment. Slight annoyance was not the feeling Loki’s presence in a major metropolitan city was likely to inspire in passersby. She finally put it together.

“Who are we then?”

He smiled at her with his hands behind his back, happy to play teacher. “If we are touched by anyone, the illusion will be interrupted and we will be revealed. We needed a disguise that would cause people to give us a wide berth without being so disruptive as to attract the notice of the constabulary.” 

He paused as if she should be able to gather the answer from his clues but she raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “We are a group of young, loud, American lads with those cameras on the end of a stick.” He waited for praise for his elegant solution to their puzzle. It certainly explained the cloud of disdain that surrounded them. It also explained the occasional person who jumped towards them with a huge smile, sticking out their tongue and holding up their arms. Seeing someone try to photobomb an imaginary GoPro was a new kind of entertainment she could get used to. But teacher demanded she remain on task.

“Now,” he said. He stepped towards her and put his hand on her elbow, turning her around to face the crowd. “Try to focus. Can you separate out someone from the crowd? Isolate their feelings from the others.”

She looked out at the mass of people before her, finally truly understanding the meaning of the word teeming. They were all moving quickly in the brisk London air with their jacket collars turned up, at least those tourists who were underdressed for the weather. The overwhelming feeling near to them was irritation, by design. Further out there was a mix of harried commuters juxtaposed against the serene “taking in the scenery” vacationers.

But in this crowd, on a first attempt, she was not able to single out any one person unless they had a particularly strong outburst of emotion. But those observations were not an achievement. The people she picked out with her new sense she could have just as easily picked out with her old ones, hearing their shouting and seeing their arms flail. She felt restless and unsatisfied.

“Can we start somewhere a little less intense? I’m at beginner level 101 and this is the advanced topics course with the department chair.” He shook his head, indicating that what she said did not translate. She supposed it wouldn’t since his entire education came in the form of private tutelage from his parents who were the actual gods of their subject matter. Which seemed several steps above tenure.

“I haven’t leveled up yet, I’m short on XP.” At this point she was just screwing with him which he did pick up with mild disdain. 

“It’s too hard?” She hated to disappoint him, which he knew.

“I didn’t say that, but I am just starting off. Can we go somewhere I have a fighting chance?”

He shrugged and walked towards the aquarium which, truth be told, was where she was hoping they would go anyway. She had always found the dim lighting, blue water, and colorful fish made for an unexpectedly romantic backdrop. Thinking back of all the times she had been to an aquarium alone, or on a school trip back in the day, enjoying the journey through the ocean but in the back of her mind imagining someone standing behind her at an intimate distance, sharing her space and her view.

“Let us step off to the side for a moment. Rowdy camera boys will be too much for a the setting, I need to alter our disguise.” He pulled her off to the side and updated their illusion. An onlooker would have seen the excited tourists huddle together for one last selfie with all their cameras before scampering off as a noisy group. She did notice people step aside for no one and then shake their heads derisively. No one would have noticed a mousey looking and affectionate teenaged couple appear out of thin air in the spot where the tourists had stood. That is, afterall, the point of a good diversion.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “We will have to stand closer together for this one.” She smiled. Finally, exploring the dark and cool spaces of an aquarium arm in arm as she had always wanted when she was young. Nevermind that she was well over 30 and theoretically too old for school trip grade shenanigans. To her credit, he was much older, and she sensed he was equally pleased at the prospect.  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was exactly as she remembered aquariums from her younger days. Dimly lit with dark corners, strange creatures, and curious people not entirely paying attention to what was around them. The perfect place to bring him, now that she thought of it. She wanted to show him an octopus to ask him if it came from outer space, but he was, as he had often been lately, incurably focused on the task at hand. Her usual tricks for distracting him were probably not advisable in the middle of London.

“Shall we try again?” One benefit of her emerging empathic abilities, in a way, was that he had stopped trying to conceal his emotions from her. Hiding his facial expressions behind illusions, as she learned he did exceedingly often, provided him no defense. At first he had found this vexing but he soon found that with an intimate partner, the ability to express one’s self was actually liberating. Particularly when she was both understanding and actually able to help.

The downside of her ability to penetrate his usual emotive barriers was that she was painfully aware when he was beginning to lose his patience.

“‘We’ are trying? I suppose ‘we’ are in that I am trying to do magic and you are trying my patience,” she quipped. This made him smile. Being annoying made him feel noticed.

“I am trying to keep you on task, which is a challenge. I am beginning to suspect staying on task is not your forte.”

“He’s figured me out. I’m doomed.”

“How is it that you have written a book?”

“A good one too by all accounts. And I have no idea. Maybe because writing a book was a distraction from my real job. So I went all in.”

“There it is.”

“It paid off. Sometimes it pays to focus on what you shouldn’t.”

He pulled her in closer and said down close to her ear in hushed tones “Now is not one of those times. Please concentrate.”

She surveyed the room using her empathic sense. The atmosphere was much calmer than the bustling street. There were fewer people experiencing generally more subdued emotions. Some parents who had undertones of stress mixed with pride as their children scrambled around asking questions and attempting to climb things that may not have been intended for climbing. Gentle serenity of a honeymooning couple taking their sweet time at every exhibit. Mild disgust from the older people looking at Loki’s illusion.

One in particular grabbed her attention. A young woman, maybe early twenties, maybe younger, alone. Seated, leaning against one of the tanks, staring into the abyss of the water. 

The woman was filled with overwhelming despondency. 

She found herself wishing she could also read minds. She had no sense of the cause of this young woman’s despair. Its duration. All she knew was it was profound. She thought more about how the power was manifesting. She knew of a space alien called Mantis who had assisted in the fight against Thanos. Mantis, if she recalled correctly, had empathic abilities based on touch. As she understood, Mantis experienced the emotions she sensed. 

Her powers were different. She observed a person’s emotions as if from a distance rather than feeling them herself. In general she felt this was probably for the best. Still, just as one could be moved by a particularly sad piece of music or painting, one could not exactly gaze upon emotions of this depth with complete dispassion. Loki noticed her attention had narrowed on the woman.

“And what does that one feel?”

“Alone.”

He put his hand on her back sympathetically, knowing that this observation was going to get to her. Tentatively he asked “can you help?”

She thought back. She had learned the hard way with her preferred test subject. If she brought someone up who was very low to a place that was very high, they may be elated for a short while. But the subsequent crash would be catastrophic. Take someone who’s been that down and launch them up like a rocket ship, it’s like dosing them with heroin. And unlike her favorite test subject, she wouldn’t be around to wean this woman off from the fallout.

“A little,” she said to him, not looking away from her target. She was learning. He thought back to his own forays into assisting mortals he took pity on. Much like a parent to a child, the more subtle the intervention, the more effective. Although sometimes he admitted he preferred notoriety to effectiveness. Too subtle and then the humans did not even know to thank you. This was not such a time. Stealth was warranted. The humans did not need to know they were guinea pigs.

She probed deeper into the woman’s emotions. Although loneliness was predominating, it came from somewhere. What was it? There was some anxiety and sometimes anxiety could drive a person into isolation. But that was not it, there was not enough. The empath listened to the strands of feeling before her trying to untangle the web and reach the core when it hit her. At the root of this stranger’s loneliness was loss. Grief. 

So that was it. Assuaging the loneliness now would do little for her in the long term if she kept holding on to her ball of grief. 

Tug. Pull. She slowly coaxed a layer or two of grief off of her target. Like scraping the top layer of frosting off of a piece of cake. She did not erase the loss and grief this woman suffered. She was not there to make her forget whoever it was she had parted with, which would only replace grief with guilt. But she could make it slightly easier to bear.

Feeling the burden of her grief lightened, the woman sat up a little straighter and looked around the room, noticing at last the living people who surrounded her. She glanced over at what appeared to her to be a disgustingly happy pair of teen lovers, intoxicated by the youthful thrill of an arm around a waist. ‘A chuckle. Just a small one. Followed by a shake of the head and a sigh.

Success.

The god and his increasingly valuable pet proceeded to a small cafe to savor their triumph and some afternoon tea. Or in her case, since she was American, coffee. As they settled into an unobtrusive corner, she looked up at a television screen and saw what she had been avoiding for some weeks. News of home. News of the world. She remembered it had been bad when she left to cloister herself away in the isolated portions of Europe. It had only become worse in her absence. Hiding, it seemed, from your country’s flaws, did not erase them anywhere except in your own head. She realized she could only hide so long.

“Honeybear?”

“Darling,” he answered.

“I think we may need to take a trip to America.”

He put down his drink and looked at her curiously. “Whatever for?” 

“I have an idea,” she told him, “to keep developing my powers.”

“And what’s in it for me?” he asked, only partially serious.

She looked him dead in the eyes. “Depends. How do you feel about sabotage?”

He grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II: Ascension
> 
> The two waited at the rendezvous point, protected from the blistering African sun by a canopy that had been retrieved from a magic pocket. But they were not greeted by the helicopter whirl of a large hammer and a big brother. Instead, a small and previously invisible ship appeared before them, hovering silently fifteen feet above the ground. Only one place on Earth possessed this technology. And it was nearby.
> 
> Wakanda.


End file.
